


The Details are in the Devil

by house_of_lantis



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris is a sculptor with a demonic muse – Adam – who refuses to leave him alone until he creates the perfect vessel for Adam to inhabit.  </p>
<p>Warnings: Language, sex, Adam is a merciless and picky demon, religious themes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Kris's Muse is a Demon...

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by akavertigo; Written for the ladies on the KM list – you rock!

Most artists had a muse – a lover, a wealthy patron, the singular perfection of a raindrop, the arrangement of stars on a clear winter’s night, hallucinogenic drugs, you know, whatever, Kris didn’t judge. After all, he had a muse, too – a demon. An _opinionated_ demon. Who wanted out.

 

“Uh, okay, but…out from where?” Kris said, sitting at his high stool, his hands caked with dried clay. He kicked his feet against the legs of the stool and flicked his fingernail against his palm, picking at the dried chips. He looked up into the shadows of his basement studio as the dark and formless blob moved smoothly through the air, never lingering in the light for too long before it found a new patch of shadow. Sometimes, if Kris looked hard enough, he thought he could see blue eyes looking back at him.

 

“For the thousandth time, out from _here_ ,” the demon hissed at him, moving along the wall, always staying in the shadows. “My immortal prison, sentenced to spend an eternity inspiring mortals.”  

 

Kris sighed and chewed on his lower lip. He seriously needed to leave the basement and get some fresh air or therapy. Maybe an exorcist.  

 

_“Hi mama, can you ask Pastor Green if he could recommend an exorcist? I seem to have a demon living in my basement who commissioned me to make him a human vessel so he could leave behind his Hell and try and take over the world. Thanks, mama. Oh, and can you send me some of your famous chocolate chip cookies, too?”_

 

Yeah, that would go over real well.

 

“I tire of having to indulge the imagination of you stinking humans,” the demon said, blending into the shadows along the wall where Kris kept his stone cutting tools. The various chisels and hammers jingled as they swung and moved against each other, touched by an invisible hand. “A millennia of indulgence…self-righteous dull beasts, the lot of you.”

 

“Okay then,” Kris drawled, raising his eyebrows. He snorted to himself and turned on the stool, facing the raised platform where he was working in clay, his eyes tracing the unshaped hunk of clay. “You know, if you hate us so much, why do you even bother to give us any kind of inspiration in the first place?”

 

“It is my eternal duty,” the demon said, defeatedly. “But, the time is near for my return to this plane of existence. I shall come here and rule the world.”

 

“Yeah, we don’t really like that kind of thing,” Kris told him, reaching up to push the clay with his fingers, forming the beginning of the jaw line. “Do you want it to be stronger or pointed?”

 

He could feel the swirl of the demon behind him, something like breathing against his ear. “No, I do not want it like that. Fix it, Kristopher.”

 

Kris sighed internally, his fingers pushing the chin back. Instead, he picked up a small palette knife and began to outline the eye sockets. “You’d be more helpful if you actually inspired me, instead of just breathing on me. Aren’t you supposed to be my muse or something?”

 

The demon made a chuckling noise that made something in his belly tighten. “Do you miss my touch? Do you want me to give you insight to what is in your heart’s desire?”

 

“Apparently, you’ve already been doing a lot of _touching_ , if that’s where all of my art is coming from,” he said, smoothing down the forehead to look less like Frankenstein’s monster.

 

“In this, you must create from within your soul or else the transformation will not be complete,” the demon told him, his voice soft and serious. “I cannot touch you.” He laughed. “Yet.”

 

Kris rolled his eyes. “Great.”


	2. The Demon has an Opinion About Everything...

“I do not like this face.”

 

Kris washed his hands at the sink, turning to lean on the counter as he wiped his hands clean with a paper towel. “What’s wrong with _this_ one? I did everything you told me to do – I made the nose fit the face, it’s straight and I guess it looks aristocratic, whatever, and I made the chin smaller and the lips fuller. It’s exactly what you asked for!”

 

He was so annoyed, so very annoyed. It was the 39th version that he’d made for the demon. He was getting a little creeped out, having all of these heads sitting on the counters, staring back at him with empty eye sockets. He could just imagine what people would think if they came down to his basement and saw the disembodied heads. Kris could just imagine being led out of the house either in handcuffs or in a strait-jacket.

 

“I dislike this one’s nose. It is too large and pointy at the tip.”

 

“It’s not pointed! It just has a well-developed tip.” Kris walked to the platform and slipped his fingers down the length of the nose. “It’s a perfect nose.”  

 

“It is not the face I want to wear on the mortal plane,” the demon growled at him. “It is not the face of a conqueror.”

 

“I told you that we didn’t like that—ohh forget it, fine.”

 

Kris made a face, his lips sticking out in a moue of disgust. He didn’t like the nose, he didn’t like the chin, he didn’t like the way that the ears stuck out, he didn’t like the narrow eyes, he didn’t like the wide eyes, the eyes were too wide set, the cheek bones were too shallow, the lips were too narrow, the lips were too full, the bottom lip wasn’t in proportion – Kris could just scream.

 

This was worse than art school, trying to impress a teacher who didn’t have the talent to make it as a professional artist, but yet forced the students to apply art to _their_ sensibilities.

 

“And it is too ordinary,” the demon complained, disappearing into the shadows with a swirl of blackness. “If I am to enter the mortal world, I do not wish to look like every other.”

 

“Well, maybe if I gave you a third eye on your forehead, you won’t look like _every other_ ,” Kris said, annoyed. “Or maybe you want your mouth where your nose is.” He threw the towel on the floor. “I’ve been working on these heads for like two months. Gimme a break, man. I’m tired. I need to finish my other commissions. I have to pay my bills. And, oh yeah, newsflash, when you’re in the mortal world, _you’re_ going to have to figure out a job so you can make money to pay bills.”

 

The demon was silent for a long moment and Kris actually felt bad for being so short tempered. He sighed and closed his eyes.

 

“Search your feelings, Kristopher.”

 

Kris opened his eyes and stared at the large blob of blackness. “Did you just quote _Star Wars_ at me? Really?”

 

The demon laughed, his voice sly and cruel. “When you form my body, I wish to be tall.” He paused. “Taller than you, surely.”

 

Kris growled as the demon faded into the shadows, the echo of his laughter haunting Kris’s brain.  


	3. Of Course it has to be Bigger than Average Sized...

“I do not know why but watching your hands form this shape is…curiously enjoyable.” Kris ducked his head, pressing his lips together. “Make it bigger and longer and thicker,” the demon crooned, his voice melodious and teasing. “Make the top rounder and, what are those two orbs at the base, make them larger, too.”

 

Kris told himself not to blush. He was an artist for heaven’s sake, not a sex toy designer and the demon’s demands to make the penis – Kris groaned and shook his head, jerking his hands away from the clay mold. “Unless you plan to be a porn star in between world conquering, that’s ridiculous.”

 

“What is a porn star?”

 

Kris groaned and shook his head. “You don’t know what a porn star is? You’re a demon. You guys have lust and temptation and sin and stuff.”

 

“That is not _my_ domain, Kristopher,” the demon said, snootily. “That is for the lower demons. I rule the domain of inspiration and creativity and passion for beauty.”

 

“Great,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

 

“It is too small,” the demon’s voices was wheedling and high pitched.

 

“It’s average sized and _normal_.” Kris stared at the clay penis. “If I made it any bigger, you’re never going to be comfortable walking around or, you know, sitting down and maybe crossing your legs. It’s going to—to smush everything down there.”

 

“Then you do not need to increase the roundness of the two orbs, but I demand that the long part be bigger than that.”

 

“Yeah, no, you don’t want to be _that_ big if you plan to have se—nevermind.“ He bit his tongue and flicked his eyes at the demon blob, stopping himself from saying more. He was _not_ going to talk about sex with the demon. No way, nuh-uh, forget about it.

 

The demon circled around the platform and Kris swore he could tell it was frowning. Ever since Kris finished creating the 52nd version of the head, the demon finally approved of what his human face would look like. A month later, Kris had finished creating the body, long and lean, defined but not too muscular. After much debate, the demon relented when Kris told him that being 18 feet tall wasn’t an advantage but a total freak show. They came to a compromise and Kris formed him to be about 6 feet tall.

 

“You were about to speak of fornication.”

 

Kris blushed, walking to his counter to look for something to do. “Uh, no.”

 

“You cannot lie to me, Kristopher. I am inspiration and I know what is in your heart.” The demon laughed. “Fornication is known amongst our kind— _ohhhhh_ , you speak of using this phallus for fornicating with _me_. You desire fornicating with me in this human shape that you have created, but you fear its size.” The demon purred at him. “I will not hurt you very much.”

 

“No, that’s not it!” He said, heatedly. “I wasn’t talking about myself or anything like that.”

 

“That explains why you touched it so wantonly.”

 

“I’m a sculptor, everything I do is based on touch.”

 

He kept himself busy straightening the tools on his counter, keeping his back turned on the demon who was obviously admiring his soon-to-be penis. Part of what the demon said was true; Kris loved forming the human body, beautiful and grotesque and everything in between. If his hands and fingers _lingered_ , it was only because Kris respected his art. If this were a true sculpture, Kris would say that creating it was a labor of love, his version of the statue of _David_ but made from clay. Who knew that the demon would be so picky and…and so vain! So incredibly vain, all about perfection, and the demon had an opinion on what was perfection for a human. Kris didn’t want to even think about the three hour screaming fight they had about _hair_. Just to get the hair style right, Kris had to go out to Barnes  & Nobles and buy a dozen men’s fashion magazines so that the demon could look to see which hairstyle fit his new face. The demon ended up choosing some kind of spiky poof thing, really, this was Kris’s life as an artist?

 

Finally, all that was left now was creating the—the _genitals_.

 

“Show me yours and we can compare it to the model.”

 

Kris crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I am not showing you my dick.”

 

“How am I to know what is normal and average sized if I have nothing to compare it to?”

 

Kris rolled his eyes. “Don’t try to get all logical with me. I’ve spent the last six months listening to your temper tantrums about the shape of your eyebrows.”

 

The demon chuckled, throaty and a little menacingly. “Your instrument must not be very large if you do not want to show it to me.”

 

“Mine is just fine, thank you very much.”

 

Kris literally jumped out of his skin when he felt _pressure_ between his legs. He stood in the light of the lamp, frowning at the darkness. “Hey! Don’t grope me, you ass.”

 

“When I take over the human world, you will beg for my touch. What will you do without my inspiration, Kristopher? Your art will die, your soul will die.”

 

“I don’t believe you,” he said, catching his breath. “That’s—that’s not true. My art is a blessing from God.”

 

The demon chuckled, the blackness covering the clay shaped penis on the platform. “Perhaps, but your inspiration is from me and me alone.”

 

“No, you’re lying,” he said, holding on to his faith. “Why would God gift me with my art and allow a demon to inspire me to create it?”

 

“Why indeed,” the demon murmured, chuckling. “But I do not wish to speak of Him, your God—“

 

“He’s your God, too, you know,” Kris told him, smugly. “Who else could give _you_ life if not God?”

 

The demon shadow moved towards him quickly, as if angry, but dissipated when it hit the border of the light. It hissed at Kris and Kris moved back towards the counter, staying in the circle of light, his heart slamming in his chest and blood rushing in his ears.

 

“Clever, Kristopher, clever…” the demon took shape in the darkness, blue eyes illuminated. “Do not anger me. Just because I allow you to speak to me in disrespectful tones does not give you leave to speak of my existence in the same breath as your God.”

 

Kris swallowed, shivering as the air became extremely cold. He could see puffs of breath from his nose and mouth and he wiped his face with his hands, slouching in on himself. He didn’t want to apologize to the demon and he wasn’t going to change his mind or his faith because he was afraid.

 

“We—we won’t talk about God anymore then,” he finally said, softly.

 

He saw the demon form into a dark shape again, the room temperature returning to normal. Kris bit his lip and played with the hem of his shirt.

 

“Return to your work, Kristopher, and make the changes that I desire.”


	4. Kris Inadvertantly Names the Demon...Adam

“I wish to choose a human name.”

 

Kris spun around in his broken swivel chair, staring up at the unfinished ceiling of the basement. “Why don’t you just use your demon name? What is it, by the way?”

 

“You would not be able to speak it with your human tongue.”

 

Kris acquiesced and nodded. “Huh. I guess you have a point about that.”

 

He got off the chair and walked towards the standing statue. After nine _long_ months, the human vessel was complete. He walked around the statue, looking with his artist’s eye for flaws and he didn’t find any. The demon was relentless in his pursuit of perfection and the most demanding “client” Kris had ever had. But in the end, he had to admit that it was the most beautiful piece of art he had ever created in his life. Shame that it was going to be the vessel for a demon. Kris regretted that he would bring a demon into the world, but he wasn’t strong enough to fight it, to keep it in the darkness, not when it held the chains to his inspiration. He didn’t want to believe it, but ever since the demon told him to build him a vessel, Kris hadn’t been inspired to work on any of his other projects. Everything that once had brought him joy or pride, everything that he once saw as beautiful, all of it had dulled to an ugly gray. It scared him to his core that the demon was right, that he was the source of inspiration and without him, Kris didn’t have the will to create anything.  

 

He stood in front of the statue, looking up at the handsome face, eyes closed, long thick lashes curled and touching the top of his cheek. Kris had formed his lips into a half smile, the expression was demure and angelic. He was about a head taller than Kris with broad shoulders and well defined chest and arms, a narrow waist with a slight curve at the hips, feminine with the masculine. He blushed slightly as he looked at the penis, a little larger than average and Kris wondered what it would look like if it were hard. He sighed, walking around to look at the smooth shoulders, the dip at the base of his lower back, the round perfection of the buttocks.

 

“I’ll never be able to make anything like this again,” he said, softly.

 

“You formed this from your soul,” the demon murmured against his ear, the coolness of the dark lingering against the skin of his neck. “I will not forget to inspire you again.”

 

“Thanks,” he said, sarcastically. “I’m not going to make more statues so you can bring your demon brothers over or whatever.”

 

“None of my kind have the power to cross to the mortal world.”

 

Kris moved away and sat down in the swivel chair, sprawling out and turning slowly. “How come you have the power?”

 

“Because I know the secret for transformation and they do not,” the demon said, simply. “And I would not share my influence here regardless. This world is mine.”

 

“Huh.” Well, at least they wouldn’t have to fight off a demon horde or whatever. “So when are you going to take over your new vessel?”

 

The darkness moved through the room. “In three nights time. When it is the full moon, I will possess my new vessel and join you.”

 

“Yay,” he said, flatly.

 

The demon hissed. “You will kneel at my feet and I will mark you as mine—“

 

“Uh, yeah, no thanks, man.”

 

“—and make you my consort.”

 

 _Consort?_ Kris made a face. “I don’t really want to help you with your world conquering or whatever. I have a lot of work that I need to catch up on.”

 

“I need to choose a name.”

 

Kris smirked. “Why don’t you go with Adam. First man and all that.”

 

“Adam,” the demon said, consideringly. “Mmmm…Aaaaadam. It is fitting that I will take the name of the first human man. Adam it shall be.”

 

Kris widened his eyes and stared at him. “What? No, you can’t call yourself Adam. That’s—that’s blasphemy!”

 

“Even better,” the demon said, laughing deeply. “I will be known as Adam. You will call me by this name.”

 

Kris groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “My life sucks so much.”

 

The demon moved around the statue, chuckling softly to himself. “I will finally walk in the mortal world. I will break it open and remake it in my image. I will enslave you humans and I will be a God.”

 

He looked up at the darkness with his hands pressed against his cheeks, and let out a long exasperated sigh. “Well, at least you’re not going to be sitting around my house and be a total bum.”


	5. The Birth of the Demon

For the last two nights, Kris stayed out of his basement studio and turned on every single light he had in the house, pushing back the shadows so that the demon – _Adam_ – wouldn’t be able to disturb him. Kris knew he was a little nuts, some of that had to do with his artist temperament and “demonic” inspiration, which explained _so_ much, but he thought he probably crossed full-fledge into insanity when he started sleeping on the living room floor surrounded by every lamp he could find.

 

On the third night, Kris knelt on the floor and prayed for forgiveness, for his weakness, for strength, for _resistance_.

 

The house started to shake and Kris got off his knees, wobbling around as he made it to the basement door. He grabbed on to the hand rail and slowly took each step down, sitting half way down the staircase and staring at the clay statue shake and tremble, a monstrous groan filling his ears. He pressed his hands over his ears, trying to shut out the sound, wondering if his neighbors could hear this, and stared as the statue started to crack.

 

“Ohmygod…”

 

There was a roaring and a red light emanated from the cracks. Pieces of the statue started falling to the ground, the whole house trembling on its foundation and Kris watched in horror and fascinating as everything fell off the walls, as the various clay heads fell to the floor and cracked open, and as dust filled the air.

 

Kris clung to the rails of the stairs as he watched the statue shake and shudder on the cement floor. He held his breath when he heard a loud, human sounding groan of pain. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against his hands, unable to witness the birth of…of _his_ creation, the demon coming to life from clay and dust…

 

_Adam._

 

Surely, Kris was going to Hell for this.

 

There was an unearthly scream and then total and utter silence, just the sound of his breathing and his blood rushing in his ears. He gasped and pushed his face away from his hands and opened his eyes. The statue wasn’t there anymore, it had shattered and fallen to the floor.

 

In the middle of it was a man, bent over on his knees, shaking as if he had a fever. Kris stood up on the steps and walked down, slow and quiet, not wanting to make a sound. The dust circled the air and Kris tasted it in the back of his throat, his eyes stinging. He wiped at his face and stifled his cough against the sleeve of his shirt.

 

The demon – Adam – groaned and rose off the floor to his knees. Kris stared at him, the demon. He was beautiful and alive…

 

He watched as the demon stretched his hands out in front of him, looking at his new flesh, skin dusted gray from the dust but perfect otherwise. Kris sank against the wall, trying not to announce his presence, unable to stop staring at Adam.

 

Adam got to his feet and stood slowly, gracefully, looking at himself and touching his chest and arms. He raised his new hands and touched his face, fingers running over his closed eyelids, the length of his nose, his lips. He smirked, investigating the shape of his ears, his head, rubbing at the texture of his eyebrows and then his hair.

 

He let out a full bodied laugh, deep and thunderous. Kris cringed and hunched down, trying to hide. He shouldn’t have come downstairs. He shouldn’t have watched this. He should’ve left the house days ago, run far away, hid inside the local church and begged God for mercy. He should’ve—

 

“Kristopher,” Adam said, his voice low and musical.

 

Kris gasped, stepping backwards and stumbling over his own feet, crashing against the wall. Adam turned to look at him, blue eyes narrowed, lips curved into a knowing smile. Adam raised his chin, his shoulders pushed back, standing tall and imperious. He took a careful step towards Kris, and then another one, and another one. Kris pressed his hands against the wall, turning his face away in fear but keeping his eyes on Adam. He didn’t know what the demon would do to him.

 

Adam stood only a few inches from him and Kris could feel the heat of his body across the short distance. He saw Adam raise his hand and Kris choked on his breath, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to watch Adam kill him.

 

He jumped when he felt warm, soft fingers trace down the side of his face. He bit his lip and trembled, holding his breath as Adam touched his face, his ear, down his neck.

 

“Just—if you’re going to kill me, just do it fast, okay?”

 

“Kill my maker?” Adam purred at him, fingers moving to the back of Kris’s head. He groaned when Adam’s fingers grabbed a handful of his shaggy hair, pulling his head back. Kris opened his eyes and stared up at him, looking into the terribly beautiful blue eyes, staring back at him with a kind of intensity and focus Kris had never had before. “Whatever for, when I can do _this_ instead?”

 

Adam kissed him. With tongue and everything.

 

 _Huh._ Kris hadn’t expected that. Well, _not_ really.


	6. When Does the World Conquering Begin Anyway?

“Would you _please_ put on the robe?”

 

Adam wandered through Kris’s living room, looking at his things. It was weird to see Adam walking around his home, to see him so real and present, so uncaring of his nudity because obviously the demon knew that he was perfect and he had no problems showing it off.

 

“Why does it disturb you to see me in my vessel?” Adam murmured, sliding his eyes to grin at Kris. “You are the one who created my body. You should take pride in your work and admire me.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Kris muttered, rolling his eyes. He shook the robe in his out stretched hand. “Just put this on. You can’t walk around naked, it’s not done.”

 

“You humans are so puerile with your insecurities,” Adam said, peering at the pictures of Kris and his family and friends. “Such simpletons, always smiling and so cheerful in these visuals.”

 

“Pictures. Photographs. That’s my family – my mom, dad, and my kid brother and they’re not simpletons, they’re good people and we’re a happy bunch. Normally,” Kris corrected, shaking the robe again earnestly. “Come on, man.”

 

Adam ignored him, moving through the room, touching everything. “To return to such a solid form after a lifetime of being nothing but a shadow…”

 

Kris sighed and took two steps and threw the robe over Adam’s broad shoulders. “Here, just put it on like this.”

 

Adam grabbed his wrist and turned around, pulling Kris flush against him, one strong arm holding Kris around his waist, as he peered down into Kris’s face. He gave a sweet smile, but Kris reminded himself not to be fooled by it. “I have watched you since you were born into the light. I turned you away from musical inspiration and set you on this path so that one day, you would have the skill to create the form that I needed.”

 

“No—“

 

“Do you remember? You were younger than now. I watched you from the shadows of your bedroom as you tried to teach yourself that stringed instrument. I could see that you were learning quickly and I knew that I had to mark you with my touch at that moment or lose you forever.” Adam traced Kris’s bottom lip with his fingertip. “Do you remember?”

 

Kris stared at him. He did remember, with exacting clarity, that beautiful summer day when he was 13-years old, when he set down his dad’s guitar and walked out into their backyard to dig up soft dirt. It was as if something called him, a higher power. He knelt on the dirt and mixed it with pancake batter and water, using whatever was in the house to try and get it to firm up so that he could shape it. He remembered the sadness in his dad’s eyes when he said that he wanted to take art classes instead of music classes, giving up the viola and the school band and sports so he could take courses at the local community center after school. His parents said that he had a path to follow and they wouldn’t stop him if it was to the arts. He remembered stepping back from doing youth leadership in his church, choosing not to join the choir and instead drawing the posters for special church events. He remembered watching his friends leave each summer on missionary trips to other countries while Kris stayed behind to study with master artists, some came from as far as Italy, who felt a “calling” to find him and teach him. He remembered how his parents were thrilled that he was accepted to college and then the look on their faces when they found out that it wasn’t to any of the state schools in Arkansas, but to the Rhode Island School of Design on a full scholarship. He remembered how much he loved music…and how it just seemed to _fade_ from his mind.

 

“You—you can’t do things like that,” Kris said, angrily. “How could you take away my music like that? I could’ve been a singer and a musician—I had _dreams_ , you know! I had a plan! Maybe I should’ve been inspired for music instead of art, then I wouldn’t have spent nearly a year locked in the basement helping a demon of Hell escape into the world!”

 

“No,” Adam murmured, smiling at him. “You were meant to be an artist. I used my influence to inspire you. I have given you a gift, touched your mind and your heart and your soul with imagination and creativity and beauty. You have done very well, Kristopher, but now, you will only create for me.”

 

“I still have like eight commissions I have to finish or we’ll be homeless pretty soon, you know, I need to get paid for my work.”

 

Adam smiled, pinching Kris’s chin with his fingers and holding Kris’s face still, eyes looking him over thoroughly. Kris felt his cheeks flush from the attention. He held his breath as Adam stared at him.

 

“You fear such irrelevant things—“

 

“Paying my mortgage and my bills are not irrelevant things!”

 

“—when I offer you the world and everything in it.”

 

Kris took a deep breath and took a step back, pulling himself from Adam’s hold. He was surprised that Adam let him go. “Look, Adam, what more do you want from me? I’ve given you what you wanted. I’m probably damned now for helping you, but you know, this is over. I’ve done what you told me to do. I don’t want anything more to do with you. So, you know, whatever, go take over the world, go do whatever it is that you want now that you have your human vessel, but just leave me alone, okay?”

 

He turned and hurried down the hallway to his bedroom, slamming the door. He stared at the doorknob and then turned the lock. Not that it would probably keep the demon out if he wanted to kick the door in or something, but Kris just needed a moment. He just needed a chance to let his brain catch up. He walked to the end of his bed and knelt down on the floor, putting his forehead on the bed.

 

“Hey God, it’s me, Kristopher,” he began, sighing. “I’m sorry for everything. I really, really am. I know what I did was wrong and—I don’t have an excuse. Maybe a part of me wanted to create something real. I’m not going to blaspheme and say that I created life in your image. I’m not you. I’m just me, your humble servant. I made a mistake. So I really need your help now to fix it. I don’t know what to do and I need some guidance. I know you hear me, but I don’t know why I can’t hear you. Please, God…please. Please.”

 

Kris waited and waited, keeping still and listening.

 

“You get used to the silence,” Adam said, softly. “Soon, you do not even speak to the Creator. You exist and continue.”

 

Kris sighed and turned to look at Adam. “I have faith.”

 

Adam walked towards him, pushing the robe from his shoulders. Kris dropped his eyes so that he wasn’t staring at the naked demon. “Such misplaced virtue.”

 

He stroked Kris’s head and chuckled. Then he pressed two fingers in the center of Kris’s forehead and Kris groaned, a shudder of pleasure easing through his mind. His fingers were tingling and he flexed them, scared that they would go numb. But it wasn’t numbness, it was…an itch; a tangible feeling that he needed to put his hands on clay or on stone or on marble – something pushing him to form and mold and create.

 

“What was that?” Kris said, staring into Adam’s eyes.

 

“A touch of inspiration,” Adam said, smiling. “Do you feel it?”

 

Kris pressed his hand against his mouth as his mind blossomed into life, colors returning that had been gray before. He bit the heel of his hand and groaned, closing his eyes. Some kind of light filled him and he got to his feet, shaky and unsure. But there was one thing that Kris was certain of, his art was filling him with joy again, it was filling him to the brim and beyond that he felt like he would explode from it. His hands shook and his heart longed to be in his studio downstairs, his warm palms forming clay into the physical what he saw in his mind’s eye.

 

“That is my gift.”

 

He opened his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands. They weren’t shaking anymore. He turned his hands over to stare at his palms, dry and slightly callused from working with clay. He raised his face and looked up at Adam. “I—I have to…”

 

“Yes,” Adam said, smiling beguilingly at Kris. How could such a beautiful face hold this kind of deception and evil? “Yes, Kristopher, _ohhhhh_ the things that you will make for me.”


	7. The Demon Has a Plan for World Conquering...

For a demon, Adam was such a _diva_. Kris wondered if all of Hell’s demons were like him or if Adam was especially insufferable with his constant demands for attention. He finally dragged Adam into his bathroom and started the shower. Adam stared at him, hands on his hips, looking down at him.

 

“Get in, man.”

 

“You will bathe me.”

 

“Uh, no. Just get in, it’s not rocket science, it’s just a shower.”

 

“I demand that you—“

 

Kris snorted, grabbing Adam by the arms and pushing him into the glass shower stall. He took the loofa sponge and tossed it at Adam, snickering as the demon tried to catch it in the air as it bounced in his hands. Kris grabbed the bottle of shower gel and squeezed a generous dollop on the loofa and then shut the glass door, glaring at Adam.

 

“Just scrub it all over your body,” Kris said, rolling his eyes. He made a scrubbing motion on his body and then looked at Adam, waiting to see if he got it.

 

“You are the worst consort in the history of consorts,” Adam groused, moving the loofa sponge slowly across his chest. He closed his eyes in pleasure and began to really get into scrubbing himself now, moving to his arms and shoulders, his chest and stomach, his lower back, to his legs and feet. Kris widened his eyes when he realized that he was watching Adam taking a shower, so he quickly turned his back on the demon, his ears hot as the demon chuckled at him. “You do not need to feel shame for watching me. I know I am perfection.”

 

“You’re narcissistic,” Kris grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest, not turning around.

 

Something wet hit the back of his head. He turned around to glare at Adam and looked on the floor to see the loofa on the bathroom mat.

 

“What the heck was that for?”

 

“Wash my back, Kristopher,” Adam said, raising his hands and grabbing the top of the shower door. His black hair was wet and clinging to his forehead and cheeks, blue eyes amused, lips curved in a smile. The steam on the glass barely hid the fact that Adam was – _wow, he was pretty big when he was hard_ – and Kris reached down and picked up the loofa, walking to the shower door.

 

“Turn around.”

 

Adam chuckled and turned. “I do not understand why you do not join me in this luxurious waterfall. I would surely return the favor.”

 

Kris squeezed more bath gel on the loofa and took a deep breath before he reached up and scrubbed at Adam’s back, getting the grime of the clay and dust off his skin. He was surprised to find that underneath all that gray was perfect creamy skin and…freckles everywhere.

 

“Freckles?”

 

Adam looked at him from over his shoulder. “Freckles?”

 

“These little dots that cover your skin. They’re called freckles.” Kris wondered if Adam would want to get rid of them, if they were somehow “imperfect” on his “perfect” body.

 

Adam raised his arm and looked at his skin. “They are lovely adornments.”

 

Kris resumed washing Adam’s back. “You don’t, uh, hate them?”

 

“I will claim them as your marks,” he said, dismissively.

 

Kris sighed, moving back and squeezing the water and soap from the loofa. He hung it on his shower hook and picked up a bottle of shampoo. “Here, this washes your hair.”

 

Adam turned to him and merely bent his head. “You will wash my hair since you did not wash my body properly.”

 

He could just protest and fight, but it was easier to just wash his damn hair. “Fine.”

 

He scrubbed and scrubbed, using his fingernails maybe a little too roughly on his scalp. The black hair lathered very quickly and Kris finally pushed Adam back under the spray to rinse off.

 

“Just rinse everything so you’re not soapy anymore and you’re done,” he said, slamming the shower door. He grabbed a large bath towel and heard the shower turn off and the door open. He turned to see Adam standing on the bath mat outside of the shower, staring at him with his eyebrow raised. Kris threw the towel at him. “Dry off.”

 

“That is your duty as my consort.”

 

“I’m not your consort.”

 

“Do not anger me, Kristopher.”

 

Kris made a face at him. “So what’re you going to do, hurt me?”

 

Adam used the towel to dry his chest, a dirty smile on his lips. “I do not need to hurt you to make you obey me.”

 

He dropped the towel on the floor and walked towards Kris, pressing him against the counter. Kris could feel his shirt and jeans getting wet and he squirmed, trying to escape Adam’s touch. He stared up at Adam when he felt Adam press his hardness against Kris’s lower belly. He knew it was a mistake to make him so—so big! What on earth was he thinking?

 

“Come on, get off—“

 

“Kristopher,” Adam murmured, cupping Kris’s face with both hands, leaning down to kiss him.

 

Kris made a squeal--of surprise! It was because he was caught off guard. This kiss was just as good as the one Adam gave him in the basement, but this one was definitely…wow…Adam was trying to shove his tongue down Kris’s throat and make him gag. He pulled out of the kiss and blinked up at Adam.

 

“That’s enough, man. I—I don’t like it like that.”

 

Adam’s blue eyes narrowed. He leaned down and kissed Kris again, taking care not to stick his tongue all the way down Kris’s throat this time, instead, running it against his tongue with long, smooth strokes that made Kris whimper and his knees shake.

 

This time, Adam pulled back and Kris stared up at him, his mouth opened. Adam smirked.

 

“Yes, I see now.”

 

Kris pulled away from him and walked into his bedroom. “I—I put clothes on the bed for you. They’re new so—“ He waved his hand to the jeans, shorts, and shirt. “I guess I’ll get you some more later.”

 

Adam walked towards the bed and grimaced at the clothes. “These are not suitable.”

 

“What? They’re totally suitable! I got them at Old Navy.”

 

He watched as the demon picked up the blue and purple plaid shorts, frowning at them. “Why do I wear these and the pants?”

 

“Because they’re your shorts, man,” Kris said, sighing. “You wear them under the jeans.”

 

Adam laughed and tossed them on the bed. “It is ridiculous to wear both.”

 

“Fine, whatever, go commando. Just—put on the clothes, okay?”

 

“Dress me.”

 

“No.”

 

Adam turned and looked at him. “Dress me or I will not put them on.”

 

Kris crossed his arms and stared at Adam. “Just put them on, Adam.”

 

“It is your duty as—“

 

“Adam, put on the damn clothes!”

 

Adam chuckled, sprawling on the bed over the clothes. He propped up his head with his hand, the other smoothing down his chest to touch his—Kris looked away, blushing.

 

“If you do not help me put on these clothes, I have no other choice but to touch myself here,” he said, his voice low and husky.

 

Kris refused to look to see what he was doing, his entire body tightening when he heard Adam stroking his cock, his moan filling the room. “Dude, come on, that’s not—that’s not right.”

 

“This feels wonderful,” Adam crooned, chuckling to himself. “I wish to fornicate with you now.”

 

“Forget it!” Kris shouted, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen!”

 

“Come here, consort.”

 

“No.”

 

Adam growled. “Kristopher.”

 

“NO.”

 

“ _Mmmmmmm_ …you must worship me with your body.”

 

Kris glanced at him quickly and then looked away. Too late, he knew it was stupid to look, but Adam did look beautiful, sprawled out on his bed, chest and cheeks flushed, his hand working his cock like a pro.

 

Adam chuckled. “You are tempted.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Then why are you still in my presence?”

 

Kris ran his hands over his face. “Ohmygod, what am I doing?”

 

He turned to leave but before he could flee, Adam was behind him, his arms wrapped in front of Kris’s chest, holding him still. He felt warm lips trace down the side of his neck and then to his earlobe, sucking on it gently. Kris shivered, grabbing on to Adam’s arms, wondering if he was trying to hold him or to pull his arms away. He really didn’t know.

 

“Okay, look, I get it, you’re gorgeous,” Kris mumbled, wriggling out of Adam’s embrace. He turned and met his eyes, ignoring the look of desire in them. “Put the clothes on and—and I’ll take you out into the city, okay? Don’t you want to see what you’re conquering?”

 

Adam smirked. “You are trying to distract me.” He licked his lips and Kris did not stare at his mouth. “I will allow it this time, Kristopher.” He let out a deep sigh, turning back to the bed and picking up the clothes. “Fine, I will dress and you will show me the city.”

 

***

 

No matter how long Kris lived in Los Angeles, he never grew to love it. He learned to appreciate the city for her quirky and eccentric denizens and for all the work and professional success he gained from his wealthy and status conscious patrons, but Kris never loved living there. After college, Kris worked in New York City, the hub of the artist’s world, and began making a name for himself. But he kept being drawn to Los Angeles.

 

Kris loved the weather, access to the coastline and soft sand beaches and ocean blue waters, the hilly areas where he could stand and look down at the city below him. There were many beautiful things to see in California.

 

But LA – that was a whole other story.

 

So walking down Hollywood Boulevard with the demon in his beautiful human vessel that Kris created out of clay with his hands…and seeing how people turned to stare at Adam, double taking as they followed him with their eyes, tall and imperious and watch worthy…it kind of started to _annoy_ Kris.

 

Adam wanted to know about _everything_. Kris shouldn’t be surprised; after all, Adam wanted to know the world he planned to conquer. He wanted to go into every store, every restaurant, every tourist trap.

 

“So how do you plan to conquer the world and all that?” Kris said, peering up at him.

 

Adam nodded slowly. “This world is different from what I imagined. I must get to know this world before I can put my plans into place.”

 

“What kind of plans? Do you even got one?”

 

“Of course, Kristopher, but you do not need to fret your pretty head about it at this time. I will tell you when I am ready to conquer. You will be adequately prepared.”

 

Kris rolled his eyes. Great, he was being relegated to the pretty bimbo role. “Awesome,” he said, dryly.

 

They continued walking down the street and Kris sighed when he felt his iPhone vibrate with a text message. He stopped while Adam was engaged with the contents of a window display so Kris scrolled through his messages to find one from Cale, his manager, and frowned at his message.

 

_You need to submit a preview to the Wellford clients if you want either of us to get paid._

 

Kris groaned; yes, he did need to submit a preview. He had to actually finish something to show his clients first.

 

_I want to get paid this decade, Kristopher, you hear me? You owe me. I’m not going to put up with your excuses anymore, buddy. We need you to deliver on some goods…or else I’m going to call your mama!_

 

So he was going to pull out the big guns and that meant that Cale was serious. Kris tapped out a reply: _Yes, Cale, I’ll have it done in a couple of days. Sorry, man. Don’t call mama!_

 

And looked up to tell Adam that they needed to go back to the house – and he wasn’t there. For a split second, Kris’s heart nearly exploded in his chest. He walked into the store – of course it was a lingerie store – and looked around, not seeing Adam inside. He ran back out to the street and looked up and down, wondering where Adam had gone off to. It couldn’t have been too far. So Kris started walking, looking into every storefront, trying to see if Adam had gone inside somewhere.

 

“Ohmygod,” he muttered to himself, running up and then back down Hollywood Boulevard like a crazy person. “Oh no, this is bad, this is so bad, where the hell did he go?”

 

And what exactly was Kris supposed to do? Go to the nearest police station and report a missing person?

 

_Yeah, he’s a demon in a human vessel that I made out of clay and his name is Adam and I kind of lost him somewhere on Hollywood. He says that he’s got a plan for world conquering but he wouldn’t tell me because I’m apparently just his consort, not even a cool sidekick or anything. He’s out there all alone and…what if something terrible happens to him?_

 

Yeah, no, that would just get him incarcerated into a local hospital for psychological observation.

 

“Okay, quit panicking, think, think,” he told himself, stopping on the sidewalk and just taking a deep breath. Adam wouldn’t have gone far and he wouldn’t just leave Kris…would he? He didn’t know the city, he didn’t even have any money! And he didn’t know how to get in touch with Kris. It wasn’t like the demon had an iPhone – oh, crap, maybe Kris should’ve gotten him a disposable cellphone.

 

He spent the next three hours running through downtown Los Angeles, stopping to ask people if they saw a tall, black haired guy wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, and yes, that wasn’t a very helpful description but Kris felt stupid saying, “he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen because I made him that way.”

 

Finally, it was starting to get dark and Kris decided to give up. He kind of felt like he was in one of those Lifetime movies where he’s the dad and he’s come out to the seedy side of Los Angeles looking for his runaway son.

 

“Get a grip, Kristopher,” he admonished, walking to the parking garage to his car.

 

He sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment, contemplating that this might be a good thing; that Adam was gone and out of his life. It was what he wanted, right?

 

“Right,” he muttered, not letting himself think about the answer.

 

He got back to his house in forty minutes and felt like an asshole for losing the demon. Adam. His…he wasn’t really a friend...what did he call him? He walked through the front door, a little freaked out that the door was open. Feeling cautious, he pulled out his iPhone, ready to dial 9-1-1 in case of a break in.

 

So he was kind of feeling like someone had punched him in the gut and knocked his breath out when he saw Adam sitting in the armchair, the remote control to the TV in his hand.

 

“Adam – where the hell have you been!”

 

Adam stood, smoothing down the front of his immaculately tailored suit – wait a minute, he was wearing a suit! And Kris knew that it wasn’t something Adam bought from Walmart. That was a suit that probably had a designer name on the label. And not only that, his hair was cut and styled, and he was wearing make-up and jewelry and…

 

“What in the—“

 

“This city is full of decadence,” Adam said, dropping the remote control on the couch cushion. “It did not take me very long to find new disciples who were more than happy to share their abundance with me to clothe me properly.”

 

“What?” He watched as Adam walked around the couch to stand in front of Adam. “How?”

 

Adam laughed, throwing back his head. “Are you pleased, Kristopher?”

 

“Well…you look nice?”

 

The demon smirked, raising his eyebrow. “I have spent the last hour watching this viewing screen,” he motioned to the flat screen on the wall, “so I know that I more than meet the criteria for infamy. I desire to be viewed upon by the people of the world so that they will know me and worship me. I will commit a bloodless coup.”

 

Kris scratched his chin. “There’s always YouTube.”

 

Adam smiled. “Tell me more about this YouTube.”


	8. And Introducing Adam…

For the past two weeks, any time Kris ventured from bowels of his basement studio to any part of his house, he found dozens of people…working with Adam. They were all young and attractive, attached to Bluetooth headsets or on their speaker phones as they talked nonstop about Adam’s Q-Rating, whatever that was, Adam’s public image, Adam’s public visibility, Adam’s introduction to the entertainment world, Adam on talk shows like Ellen and Conversations with Oprah, Adam on MTV, Adam on VH1, Adam on the O’Reilly Factor—

“Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on now, Adam?” 

Adam stood half naked in the middle of his living room, draped with shimmery fabrics and surrounded by people who were holding up different types of clothes and shoes, jewelry cases with necklaces and rings and watches, dressing him and fitting him with new clothes. He was like an Emperor…or a demon who was about to conquer his new world. Of course he needed the right outfit to do that. Kris rolled his eyes internally. Adam gave him a pleased smiled and spread out his arms. 

“Meet my new disciples. They are helping me plan my takeover of the world.” 

“They do know that when you say ‘takeover’ you mean ‘take over’ and not like a euphemism for fame, right?” 

Adam smirked, raising his head high. “It means whatever I wish it to mean, Kristopher.” 

Kris watched as various people circled Adam, holding up clothes and Adam staring at them with his keen eye, dismissing the ones he didn’t like or nodding to the ones that he did. 

“Where—how—do you even have any money to pay for all this?” 

“I do not have need of money. My disciples will take care of it,” he said, his voice dripping with entitlement. 

“Adam, Adam, darling, do you want to be an actor?” One of the headset wearing women said, eyes wide as she waited for his answer. 

“Of course, I will be able to act,” he said, simply. 

“Great,” the woman said into her cellphone. “Put him down for guest appearances on every CW show that you can book for him. Get him on Arrow. Yeah, he’s fabulous, isn’t he? Totally versatile; has such a formality to him, he could do Shakespeare – like, Iago or something. Get him on that vampire show first, okay? No, not that one, Supernatural is too dark for Adam. He needs to be bright and beautiful and visible. No one watches Supernatural anymore. What about that show Pretty Little Liars? Right, right…” 

Kris sighed, being bumped around by the swirl of people around him. They shot him annoyed glances when Adam wasn’t looking. One of the young men holding an armful of clothes looked at Kris, distastefully. 

“No, no, no, you can’t be seen with Adam. You’ll totally pull down his ratings.” 

“What?” Kris said, frowning. 

The man waved his beautifully manicured hand at Kris. “This…ensemble you have going on, honey, it’s just not going to work with what Adam is going to be wearing, sweetheart. This is…I don’t even know how to describe that color you’re wearing—“ 

“It’s called plaid,” Kris said, raising his eyebrow. 

“—but it should be shot and buried in the backyard.” 

If Kris was a violent man, he thought he might have punched that guy in his pretty, snooty face. He sighed and was pushed into the couch, falling against several piles of clothes and knocking them on the carpet. 

“Oh, wow, sorr—“ Kris mumbled, slipping against the fabrics and falling on his ass to the floor. 

“Really? You just ruined the piles I had going here—ohmygod, get off! Get off the silk,” a woman shrieked at him. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs doing…something else?” 

“ENOUGH!” Adam shouted, his voice reverberating throughout the house. He pushed past all the people fawning over him and took Kris’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “Kristopher is my consort; he is mine and no one will speak to him in that manner.” 

They all mumbled apologies and Kris sighed, looking up at Adam. 

“I think I’m going to go back to my studio, Adam,” he said, dejectedly. 

Adam caressed his cheek. “I have neglected you. I will send my disciples away soon.” 

“Nah, that’s all right. Have fun with all your people,” Kris murmured, slipping his hand away and ducking past all the people vying for Adam’s attention. He stood at the door to the basement and turned to look as Adam allowed himself to be distracted, his attention on fashion and make-up and look books and appearances on television shows. 

Kris didn’t know why he was feeling so rotten. If anything, he should be happy that Adam was going to be out of his life soon. It was apparent that Kris wasn’t going to have any kind of say in what he did anyway, so why bother? He walked down the steps and closed the door behind him, knowing that no one would come down to see what he was doing. 

*** 

Kris was finally getting through finishing his commission pieces. The inspiration that Adam gave him was starting to pay off. He wore eye goggles and placed the edge of the chisel against the blue black stone and tapped at it carefully, forming the rough outline of what would turn out to be the iconic Apple apple. He would create a floating leaf and use the thinnest tensile steel wire to hold it up to give it that appearance of floating in air. 

The door to the basement opened and Kris stopped when he heard footsteps make their way down. He smiled when he saw Cale walk into his studio. 

“Hey!” 

“What the hell is going on upstairs, man?” Cale said, making a face. “Some guy let me in and asked me if I had an appointment with Adam—and who’s Adam?” 

Kris sighed and set his tools down, pulling off his goggles. “You want the short version or the long version?” 

Cale raised his eyebrow. “I’m going to need a drink for this, aren’t I?” 

“Well, uh, you know how I was always kind of inspired to create sculptures and stuff like that?” He began, watching as Cale nodded. They had been friends for many years and Cale was Kris’s manager now. “So it turns out that my inspiration came from a demon. And a few months ago, he started talking to me and telling me to make him a human vessel out of clay so that he could use it to transform and come into this world. So, uh, that’s Adam.” 

Cale stared at him for a long moment, putting his hands into his pockets. “Okay.” 

Kris narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m not crazy.” 

“I know you’ve been under a lot of stress and pressure this year, what with all of these new clients and all—“ 

“I’m not having a breakdown, Cale.” 

Cale scratched his chin. “You’re not crazy? That sounded kind of crazy to me.” 

Kris sighed and walked to his swivel chair, frowning. “It’s been a long year. Sometimes, I don’t believe all that’s happened either.” He glanced up at Cale. “You know how I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar? The demon—Adam said that when I was a kid, he turned me away from music so that I’d go into the arts so I could get good enough to make him a body.” 

Cale walked towards him and knelt down at his side, putting his hand on Kris’s shoulder. “You’re my best friend and—and, well, I believe that you believe what you just said is true. But come on, Kris, it just sounds so crazy, you know?” 

“I know,” Kris said, laughing. “Don’t you think I know that?” 

“Is that why you haven’t been able to finish any of your pieces for months?” 

Kris nodded. “Yeah. Adam kept me busy on just his project, wouldn’t let me work on any of the commission stuff. He said that he wasn’t going to give me inspiration if I didn’t make the statue for him.” 

He watched as Cale looked around the studio. “Where is it?” 

“He’s upstairs,” he said, shrugging. 

Cale squeezed his hand on Kris’s shoulder and moved to give him a hug. Kris closed his eyes and accepted it because he really loved hugging. 

“How dare you touch my consort!” 

Cale jumped off his knees, turning to stare at Adam. “What?” 

Kris groaned and closed his eyes, shaking his head. “This can’t be my life.” 

“Kristopher is mine. No one may touch him but I.” 

He watched as Cale crossed his arms in front of his chest, staring at Adam. Kris thought Adam looked very good in his new light gray suit and black button down. Very classy for a demon. Adam walked in front of Cale. They were similar in height and Kris acknowledged that they were both very pretty men. 

“I could turn you to ash with just a snap of my fingers,” Adam hissed at him as he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. 

Kris looked up at him, surprised. “Oh! So does that mean you have some demony powers?” 

They both ignored him. 

“So you must be Adam,” Cale said, derisively. “I thought you might be scarier if you’re a demon, but you don’t look all that scary to me. Well, the make-up is kind of scary.” 

“I am a demon,” Adam intoned, his shoulders back, nostrils flaring. “I have come to this world to conquer it.” 

“Yeah, through MTV and Vampire Diaries,” Kris muttered, under his breath. “No one ever listens to me. Noooooo.” 

Cale narrowed his eyes at Adam. “Kristopher is my best friend and I’m his business manager. If you’re the dipshit that’s been keeping him locked in here to make him work for you – without pay, I imagine – then you’re full of it.” 

Adam made an indignant noise. “I am not keeping Kristopher prisoner. He is my consort and his place is by my side!” 

“This sounds like an abusive relationship to me,” Cale said, making a face at Adam. He turned and put his hand on Kris’s shoulder. “Come on, man, you can crash with me for as long as you need to.” 

“Look, Cale, I’m all right,” Kris said, softly. 

“No, I don’t think you are. I think he’s using you and he’s being a total asshole,” Cale said, looking at him. 

“He is not leaving with you,” Adam said, growling. 

“I’m not afraid of you, jackass,” Cale said, taking a step closer to Adam. 

Adam laughed, the sound was unearthly in the basement. For a moment, Kris thought he could see the shadow of the demon around him. “You puny excuse of a human; I have no use for you. Leave our presence this instant or feel my wrath.” 

“Okay, look, guys,” Kris said, getting up and standing between them. “This is kind of stupid. Cale, I’m all right. I’m working on the Apple project now; Adam’s got his disci—his people helping him. He’s going to be leaving soon and…I’m fine. Really.” 

Cale glared at Adam, but when he looked at Kris, his eyes were kind. “Kris, this doesn’t seem like a safe environment for you. I’d really feel better if you left here with me.” 

“I know, but it’s all right. He hasn’t hurt me or anything. He’s just really kind of all bark and no bite.” 

Adam hissed and glared at Kris. “How dare you describe me as a dog!” 

Kris groaned and rolled his eyes. 

“Call me later tonight. If I don’t hear from you, I’m going to call your mama and fly her out here to take care of this,” Cale said, giving Adam a dirty look. “Don’t you get any bright ideas and try to steal from Kris or something. I’ve seen guys like you in this business, tagging along and trying to ride on Kris’s coat tails for his money.” 

Adam sneered. “I have no need of Kristopher’s money.” 

Kris shrugged and kind of nodded. It was true. Kris had made a lot of money over the years for his work. He could easily afford a lot of the things that Adam wanted, but he never asked Kris to pay for anything. That had to mean something, right? 

But what, exactly, Kris had no clue. 

“It’s cool, Cale. I’ll call you tonight. And quit threatening to call my mama,” he said, staring at Cale. 

“Walk me out,” Cale said to Kris, walking to the stairs. He gave Adam a final look and Kris sighed, shaking his head. “He’s kind of a pompous jerk. I don’t know what you see in him.” 

Kris followed him up the stairs. “It’s not like that. He’s just—he’s a house guest, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, right,” Cale said, snorting. “I saw the way that you looked at him.” 

“What?” 

Kris followed Cale to the front door. He was kind of pleased to see that everyone was out of his house. Finally. 

“Just because he’s good looking doesn’t mean that you should let him treat you like dirt. You’re a good man with a big heart and you can be too nice for your own good at times, so you shouldn’t let someone who looks like Adam take advantage of you.” Cale said, shaking his head. “Lord, I can’t believe I’m having this kind of conversation with you.” 

All he could do was just stare at Cale. “Dude, it really isn’t like that.” He frowned. “And I’m not that shallow.” 

“Uh-huh. I know when a guy is jealous and that guy down stairs was jealous because I was giving you a hug. Tell me that doesn’t mean anything.” Cale exhaled deeply and turned, giving Kris a long hug, patting his back. “Call me. I mean it. I will call your mama.” 

“Fine, I will,” he said, smiling as he waved his hand, watching Cale walk down his driveway to his car. “Thanks for coming by, man.” 

“If he hurts you, I’m going to kick his ass!” 

Kris grinned, pleased to have Cale on his side. He closed the door and took a deep breath, wondering what he was going to do with Adam. 

*** 

Kris settled into his work again, inspiration flowing through him as he sketched out different pieces he was interested in creating. Now that all of his commissioned work was done and Cale was appeased, for now, Kris turned his attention to the things that brought him joy. 

It was strange that all of his sketches were erotic bodies of guitars…maybe he should buy a guitar and try to pick up where he left off when he was thirteen… 

He was sprawled over his drafting table, pushing his pencil up and letting it roll down the slanted surface of the table, when he heard footsteps and giggling upstairs. No doubt it was Adam and his entourage returning from wherever it was that Adam usually went with them. Kris slipped off the stool and made his way upstairs to the living room. 

“Hey Adam, what did you guys do today? Having fun trying to take over the world?” He said, scratching his back and walking into the living room. He stopped, staring at the pretty brown haired boy crawling all over Adam on the couch. “What the hell is this?” 

Adam looked over at Kris and giggled. “Darling, look who I met, is he not glittery and beautiful? He is the boy from the YouTube videos.” 

Kris narrowed his eyes and glared at the slender and petite young interloper wearing what looked like painted on black glittery spandex pants, a neon pink sequin tank top, and nothing else left to the imagination. The boy crawled up Adam’s body and held out a hand to Kris. 

“Call me Cheeks, baby,” he said, looking at Kris in what was a rudely leering fashion. 

Kris didn’t want to shake his hand, but he couldn’t ignore all the years of his mama teaching him to be a gentleman and well mannered. He shook the young man’s hand. “Kris Allen.” 

“Adam, your boy is totally delish,” Cheeks said, lounging on top of Adam, kicking his heels in the air, all very tra-la-la about it. 

“Did I not tell you that my consort is perfect?” Adam murmured, running his hands up and down Cheeks’ back. 

Kris looked at Adam. “Are you drunk?” 

“Yes!” Adam said, happily. “This is a wonderful feeling; such lightness in my head and heaviness in my body.” 

Cheeks laughed throatily as Adam grabbed him by the hips and they started to grind against each other on the couch. 

“All right, well, you…get on that,” Kris said, growling a little. He frowned as he stomped through the living room and into the kitchen, getting a bottled water from the fridge and slamming the door shut. He twisted off the plastic cap and tossed it on the counter, taking a long drink of the cold water. 

“Kristopher,” Adam called, coming into the kitchen. “You are displeased with me.” 

Kris rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man, do what you want.” Stupid demon, he thought, in his head. 

Adam frowned at him. “I am not stupid. Why would you think such a thing?” 

Cheeks strolled into the kitchen like he owned the place and Kris couldn’t help staring at how he just seemed to bring such a presence into the room. Kris had to admit that there was a reason why Cheeks captured Adam’s attention. He was just as glittery and as interesting as Adam. 

He leaned against the counter and grinned at Kris. “Baby, I think there’s a bit of a miscommunication here. I’m not here to steal your man away or anything like that. But when I saw him in the club, I just had to meet him! And he spent the whole night talking about you so of course I had to come and meet you. You’re an artist, he said, and I’ve seen your work!” 

Kris blushed. “Thank you.” 

“So, here’s the deal, I delivered your darling demon home safe and sound,” Cheeks told him, smiling widely. He reached over and hugged Kris, all long limbs and smoky musk, and kissed his cheek. “Don’t be a stranger. Ta ta.” 

“Uh, okay. Thanks?” 

“You really are too adorable for words,” Cheeks said, patting his face playfully. He turned and gave Adam a hug as well. “Be good to him.” 

“He is mine, of course I am going to treat him well,” Adam said, rolling his eyes. 

“Call me later and we’ll make you a star on YouTube!” 

Kris sipped his water, leaning his hip again the counter. Adam smiled at him – actually, he leered at Kris, but whatever, Kris wasn’t going to fall for anything Adam had up his sleeve. 

“You are jealous.” 

“Am not,” he said, snorting. 

Adam laughed, walking towards him and pressing close against him. “You do not want anyone to fornicate with me because you want to fornicate with me.” 

“I really wish you’d stop saying that word, it’s just…obscene sounding,” he said, grimacing. Kris tried to ignore the fact that Adam was grinding against him now, slow leisurely thrusts with his hips and Kris couldn’t ignore that Adam was hard. Kris pushed his hips away and threw him an annoyed look. “Cut it out, man, really.” 

“I do not know why you continue to refuse me,” the demon said, morosely. “I do not wish to fornicate with anyone else but you.” 

A monogamous demon? Kris raised his eyebrow. “You could consider the fact that I don’t want to have sex with you?” 

Adam snorted. “But that would be a lie, Kristopher. Remember, I know what is in your heart.” 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“I have watched the mating rituals of humans,” Adam said, nodding solemnly. “I am aware of the ways of fornicating.” 

Kris stared at him. “Oh God, you watched porn, didn’t you.” 

“The club had visuals on the visual screens. Cheeks explained everything. I am prepared to have you and show you pleasure beyond your dreams.” 

He had heard a lot of pick up lines in his life, but that one took the cake. Kris snickered and then started laughing. “Ohhh, man, that was so cheesy.” 

“Cheesy?” Adam said, frowning as he watched Kris laughing. “This is not the reaction I was expecting, Kristopher.” 

“Sorry, but…come on, that was hilarious!” 

Adam pouted and sighed eloquently. “It appears that you are not taking me seriously and I am no longer in the mood to fornicate.” 

“Okay,” Kris said, bending over and laughing even harder. He watched as Adam turned and stalked out of the kitchen, which made Kris giggle even louder. 

*** 

“KRISTOPHER! Come here this instant!” 

Kris startled, his hand shaking as it gouged out a neat chunk of clay and he nearly dropped the palette knife from his hand. “I’m busy!” 

“I am on YouTube!” 

“Oh no,” Kris muttered, jumping off his stool and running up the stairs. “What did you post?” 

Adam laughed, motioning Kris into the living room where all of Adam’s disciples were gathered around Kris’s Mac book. There was a video playing and Adam was…singing. 

SINGING! He was singing “Let’s Dance” in what looked like a karaoke bar. And his voice was magnificent and pitch perfect and…he was gorgeous and…from the background cheers of the audience, he was…he was amazing! 

Kris gasped and bit his lip. “You…you sing!” 

“Two million hits so far,” one of the disciples said to him, smirking. “We’re thinking of packaging him as the David Bowie of our generation.” 

Adam curled his arms around Kris’s waist from behind, kissing his neck. “Is this not perfect? I will conquer the world as a rock star.” 

“Get off of me!” Kris shouted, jerking out of Adam’s arms and running out of the room to his bedroom. He slammed the door, locked it, and sat on the edge of the bed, his body shaking in fury. 

How dare he! How dare he steal Kris’s love of music and—and then come here and—and…ARGH…he was so pissed off. 

The doorknob cracked and the door opened as Adam stormed into the room. 

“Get the fuck out of my room, demon,” Kris hissed at him. 

Adam slammed the door shut and literally flew across the room, falling on top of Kris and grabbing his wrists to pin them against the mattress. His blue eyes were dark and narrowed as he glared at him. 

“Get off! GET OFF ME!” 

Kris couldn’t budge him and he struggled and wriggled until all he did was wear himself out. He panted and fell back against the bed, kicking the back of Adam’s leg with his heel. 

“You asshole,” he growled, breathlessly. “You—you take away my love for music and—and you decide that this is how you’re going to—to make your way in the world! Off of my dreams? Throw it in my face!” 

“It was not to displeasure you!” Adam hissed at him. “It is my inspiration; my talent!” 

“One that you stole from me!” 

“I stole nothing from you. I redirected your purpose into a new direction borne of my selfish reasons, but you have not lost your gift of music.” 

Kris swallowed and looked at Adam. 

“Shall I inspire you, Kristopher?” 

He really wanted to say yes. He loved his art, he loved forming sculptures with his hands, but he always felt that his hands were meant to be doing something else. 

“What do you want?” 

Adam smiled at him, glossy lips curving into a delighted smile. “A kiss.” 

Kris gave him a suspicious look. “A kiss?” 

“Mmmm…I would like it if you kissed me this time.” 

“And I get inspired for music?” 

“Yes.” 

“What about my art?” 

“You will not lose it.” 

He knew it was a stupid idea to make a deal with a demon. Then again, it was a stupid idea to bring a demon into the mortal world, too. Not that two wrongs made a right…right? 

“Okay, but…you promise?” 

“I have never lied to you.” 

Kris frowned at that. 

Adam sighed. “I have withheld the truth from you, but I have never lied to you directly.” 

“You know, that’s still lying,” he said, raising his eyebrow. 

“Kiss me, Kristopher, and music is yours once again.” 

“Fine.” 

Kris raised his head slowly and tilted his head to the side as he pressed his lips against Adam’s mouth. He pulled back and licked his dry lips and moved in to kiss Adam again, taking his time and just letting his lips move and slide against Adam. The gloss tasted like strawberries and Adam smelled sweet and pretty. He murmured a pleased noise and Kris parted his lips a little and licked across Adam’s bottom lip. 

“Mmmm…more…” Adam whispered, encouragingly. He let go of Kris’s wrists, one hand sliding under Kris’s head to hold him up as Kris maneuvered his head to try and get a good angle. 

He dipped the tip of his tongue between Adam’s lips, testing the waters, and then sucked on that plush bottom lip gently. Adam moaned against his lips and Kris felt a little thrill go down his spine, bolding opening his mouth a little more, pressing his tongue between Adam’s lips, and taking a deeper taste of his demon. 

“Yes, I like this, so gentle,” Adam murmured, returning his kisses now, his tongue luring Kris further into his mouth. “Mmmm…yes…more, Kristopher…” 

Kris didn’t like aggressive kissers; he much preferred this. Being close like this, just making out, and not having to worry about “performing.” It was kissing just for kissing and Kris liked kissing. Adam pressed Kris back on the bed, his leg slipping between Kris’s thighs, his large hand curling behind Kris’s neck. He reached down and held Kris’s hand. They kissed for long moments, unhurried and slow, gloss smeared over their lips. Kris placed his free hand on Adam’s waist, moving over the warm, soft skin of his lower back under his shirt, fingers stroking the smooth skin. He slid his eyes open to see Adam watching him and he blushed, feeling incredibly shy all of a sudden. He pulled back and bit his lower lip, looking up at Adam. 

“I enjoy kissing you,” Adam said, smiling at him. “My disciples tell me that kissing is the way to the heart.” 

Kris raised his eyebrow. 

“And yes, they also said that kissing leads to fornication.” 

“Umm…” 

Adam chuckled and stroked his thumb over Kris’s forehead. He closed his eyes and felt something shake loose inside of him. He inhaled deeply and felt warm all over. It could’ve been because the demon kept his promise and Kris felt music pour back into him…or it could’ve been that Kris was turned on and hard, his thighs wrapped around Adam’s leg. 

“There. It is done.” 

“Wow,” he said, blinking up at Adam. 

Adam pressed a kiss on his cheek and slid off of him, curled beside him on the bed. 

Kris licked his lips and stared up at the ceiling, his fingers dancing restlessly on the covers. “I…I think I’m going to go and buy a guitar.” 

Adam giggled.


	9. Fornicating is Not Love? Well, Maybe it is

Kris was excited. He was getting better at playing the guitar only after his third lesson, working on a number of simple songs from the _Beatles_ catalogue. He couldn’t wait to get home to play something for Adam and maybe even have a little duet with his singing demon.

 

“Adam! I’m home,” he called, shutting the front door behind him and kicking off his sneakers.

 

The house was too quiet; Adam’s disciples and usual entourage weren’t hanging out, kissing up him. Kris wasn’t sure what to make of it and a part of him wondered if Adam was gone.

 

“Adam?” Kris wandered into the kitchen and then the living room.

 

“Come upstairs, Kristopher,” Adam called from the second floor.

 

“Okay.” Kris shivered with relief, setting down his guitar gig bag on the coffee table and taking the steps two at a time to the second floor. “Hey, where are you? What’s up with the— _ohhhh_ kay…this is different.”

 

Adam was sprawled across Kris’s bed, naked, and smirking up at him. He reached out with his hand and patted the mattress. “Come to me.”

 

Kris couldn’t help staring. Adam’s dark hair was loose and falling around his face, his eyes were lined with black make-up and lips glossy, his body was tanned and looked warm. Adam shifted his hips and Kris licked his lips, his eyes tracing the length and hardness of Adam’s cock. If Kris could pat himself on the back for being Adam’s creator without coming off as a douche bag, then Kris would do it because Adam was…perfect.

 

“Come _here_ ,” Adam said, his voice full of authority and seduction. “I have been waiting for you.”

 

“I—I can see that,” he said, softly. He looked around his bedroom – the curtains were closed, all of Kris’s dirty clothes were off the floor, there were candles lit on his dresser – everything was set up to feel _romantic_. And in the middle of his bed, a very naked and very aroused demon of hell.  He met Adam’s eyes and put on a casual, unaffected front. “All this for me, huh?”

 

“Of course. Who else would I want?”

 

“Why _do_ you even want me? Don’t you have enough people throwing themselves at you already?”

 

“Are you jealous?”

 

Kris snorted, trying to hide that he was. “No, don’t be stupid.”

 

Adam chuckled darkly as he slid off the bed, getting to his feet gracefully. He prowled towards Kris and cupped his face with his warm palms, tilting Kris’s face so that he could look into Adam’s very blue eyes. “Then why do you question my desire for you? None of the others interest me.”

 

He shrugged. “I’m just having a hard time trying to understand. I mean, you left hell to—to conquer the world and you’re always hitting on me and—and I don’t know.”

 

“Do you think I chose you randomly to gift you with my touch of inspiration? I have watched you grow into a man and have waited patiently for my reward.”

 

“Is that all this is? Just collecting on your patience?”

 

Adam stroked his hands down Kris’s neck, curling over Kris’s shoulders, to trail down his arms until his hands cupped Kris’s elbows. He began walking backwards, pulling Kris towards the bed.

 

“If only it were that simple,” Adam murmured, sitting down when the back of his legs touched the edge of the mattress. He tugged Kris so that he was pressed against Adam’s body, his long legs parted so Kris stood between them. “Do you want to know the secret to my transformation, Kristopher?”

 

The demon might be as evil as the proverbial snake, but Kris believed that Adam was the snake charmer with the way that he sometimes stared at Kris with those eyes, something very old behind the brilliant blues. It made Kris sway with longing and pride as he looked at his beautiful demon creation.

 

“ _You_. Only you had the power to bring me over into the mortal realm. It was not just your gift for art, but your pure soul. Only a pure soul who desired my freedom could release me of the demon world.”

 

Kris frowned, denying the burden of his guilt. “I didn’t _desire_ your freedom—“

 

“I could only cross over because your pure soul wanted me here, just as deeply as my sinful one wanted to join you,” the demon said, smiling up at him. “In all the worlds, only you and I have this bond.”

 

“This is crazy.”

 

Adam ran his hands up the back of Kris’s legs.

 

“ _This_ is gratitude.”

 

He nuzzled his face against Kris’s belly and Kris closed his eyes, biting his lip when he felt the heat of Adam’s breath through his tee-shirt. Adam’s hands curled around Kris’s butt and squeezed firmly.

 

“ _This_ is devotion.”

 

Kris dropped his hands on Adam’s shoulders, the sore fingertips of his left hand felt hot against Adam’s skin.

 

“ _This_ is love,” Adam whispered, his hands slipping under Kris’s shirt to caress his back, surprisingly gentle and sending goose bumps all over his body.

 

Kris found himself naked and pressed on his back, staring up at Adam. _When did – how did he do that?_ He groaned as Adam curled his hand around his cock.

 

“This is _mine_.”

 

“Demons can’t love,” Kris panted, looking up at Adam. He bit back a whimper when Adam stroked his cock, slow and firm, thumb skimming over the sensitive head.

 

“It is rare, but we can,” Adam murmured, leaning down to kiss his lips. “But only of those who we deem worthy of it.”

 

That went against everything Kris believed in; everything Kris was taught about Hell and demons. He stared up at Adam, too stunned to say anything.

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

Adam licked his lips. “You will.”

 

***

 

Kris was expecting to wake up bruised or torn up, bleeding and in pain. Surely a demon from Hell would be cruel and brutal, would delight in destroying his creator. Wasn’t that how it always happened? It was nothing less than Kris deserved for thinking he was like God and taking pride in his creation.

 

Yes, he was bruised and ached in places he didn’t want to mention, but he wasn’t bleeding and Adam hadn’t been cruel or brutal. In his wildest imagination, Kris thought that sex with Adam would’ve been, well, kind of demonic.

 

Oh, Adam was _definitely_ demonic in that he was insatiable and he was merciless; he wouldn’t let Kris catch his breath or rest, his demon powers pretty impressive when it came to stamina.

 

“Wow,” he whispered, giggling to himself.

 

He opened his eyes and groaned, tugging his left wrist that was tied to the headboard with one of Adam’s silk neckties. He turned on his side and reached up to undo the masterful knot, but gave up after a few minutes, too exhausted to free himself. He dropped back on the bed and closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

 

Adam chuckled and Kris opened his eyes to see his demon lover walking slowly into the bedroom, an evil smirk on his lips.

 

“You tied me up.”

 

“I did not want you to wiggle away,” he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over Kris.

 

“You tied me up while I was _sleeping_.”

 

Adam kissed his mouth. “I like knowing exactly where you are, Kristopher; right here where you belong.”

 

“That’s kind of possessive,” he said, frowning a little.

 

“I _am_ possessive; and you are mine.”

 

Kris stretched and waved the fingers of the hand that was still tied up. “I’m gonna lose circulation in my hand and I need it to play guitar and work on my art, you know.”

 

“Well, that cannot happen,” Adam said, reaching up to undo the knot and freeing him. He stole another kiss from Kris and smiled at him. “Now that you are awake, we can play.”

 

“Oh boy,” Kris murmured, eyes widening at the look at Adam’s face as he grabbed the sheets and tossed them off, crawling on top of Kris and kissing down his neck, his chest, to his belly and – “oh boy, oh boy, oh— _ohhhh_ mygod, Adam…”


	10. Epilogue: The Beginning of the End

Kris was certain now that he had doomed the world to fall under Adam’s power. The billions of humans who existed on this earth wouldn’t ever realize it, until it was too late, and they would all take one look at Adam and want nothing more than to fall to their knees. It was what Kris felt whenever he looked at his demon lover.

 

“I have marked you as my consort,” Adam whispered, brushing his lips against Kris’s temple, his arms wrapped tightly around him as they looked down at the city of Los Angeles from the highest point on the hills. “You will be mine forever.”

 

“Wow,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Kind of a long time to be together. I guess demons don’t really break up, huh?”

 

“Did you think otherwise? Foolish boy.” Adam kissed his earlobe and licked the rim of his ear, making Kris shiver and stifle his moan. “I am a demon of the other world; do you think that this mortal one could ever destroy me or that I would need to play by its rules? How long do you think I have existed, Kristopher? Since the dawn of time. You will be by my side even when time ends.”

 

Kris swallowed, letting that sink in. He turned and looked up at Adam, frowning with worry. “That’s—that’s a real long time. I don’t know…”

 

 _If I even want to live that long_ , he wanted to say. _Or see the world destroyed by his creation_.

 

Adam smiled at him and stroked his hand down Kris’s face, curling around his neck. “You do not need to fear; I will not destroy the world you love. Instead, I will show it to you.”

 

“Well, I always did like traveling.”

 

“I came here for you; and we will remake the world together,” Adam whispered, his blue eyes glittering with promise.

 

 

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> Kris is an artist suffering the one problem worse than lack of inspiration - infestation. Specifically, a demonic muse that just won't leave him alone. "Adam" wants to come out into the world to do his own thing, rather than constantly having to prompt'n'prod other. The catch is he needs someone to create (paint, sculpt, whatever) his vessel first. Luckily for Adam Kris has the passion and talent to do the job; unfortunately for Kris Adam is a picky b*tch who won't leave until Kris gets it juuuuuuuuuust right. (Fun catch: Adam starts off being picky but then just doesn't want to make a decision and have to leave Kris alone.)


End file.
